When in Rome
by WriterOfNeverKnown
Summary: The second she breathes in the Roman air, Annabeth decides that she loves this city, and tells Percy so. They have been best friends since that delicate age of 12, a couple since 16, and before this vacation is over, Percy aims to be something even more. He pats his jeans pocket to make sure the box is still there and smiles. Rome has never held such promise.
1. Day 1

_I think I always knew you would be_

_I think I always knew you would be_

_The greatest_

_The greatest_

_Because you saved my life once_

* * *

The second she breathed in the air as they stepped out of the airport, Annabeth decided that she loved Rome, and she told Percy so. He had laughed at her, telling her to let them actually _see_ some of the city before she started designing their summer villa. She had smiled radiantly at him, hefted her bags up, and led the way to the bus stop.

Despite his playful reluctance, Percy has fallen in love with the city too. Not as deeply as Annabeth, of course, who tries to stop and examine every old building they pass, but he does love it. He decides the first day that he could do without the Italian men, but that's about the only thing he would change. Not a day goes by without at least one guy whistling at Annabeth or winking at her with a suave "Ciao, bella." Because of her shapely figure and naturally blonde hair, she is quite the prize in Italy. Annabeth is oblivious to the men's compliments, however; she is always too busy looking in shop windows, down at the cobblestones beneath her feet, up at the tops of old buildings and telling Percy the century in which they were built.

Their first day, despite their exhaustion from the long flight, they explore the vastness that is the Roman Forum hand-in-hand. The signs are in Italian – thankfully, they both took a course in the language, but Percy is terrible – and are sparsely littered throughout the ruins, so finding the exit when they are done proves difficult.

"That sign back there said the exit is left."

"You can barely say 'Hello' in Italian, Seaweed Brain. What makes you so sure it said left?"

"Well, we've always taken the right path, and we've ended up walking past the amphitheater and the weird mushroom-shaped trees twice now. It _has_ to say left. Process of elimination."

"Or maybe the exit is back by that little waterfall. You know, around that arch we passed."

"No, I looked. There's a gate, yeah, but nobody is going through."

"Fine. We'll go left. Too bad your sense of direction on land _sucks_."

"Hey!"

"On the water? Oh, yeah, that's East, it'll be dawn in exactly 3 hours and 16 minutes, there's a lost city of merpeople beneath us, we're at 27 North by 125 West…"

"You certainly didn't mind when I got us through the Sea of Monsters _and_ the Mare Nostrum!"

"But on land? Nothing!"

He shoves her playfully, both of them grinning, and she shoves him right back and then takes off running before he can retaliate. He calls her name and chases after her, drawing odd looks from the other tourists. Percy and Annabeth run and laugh like they are 12-years-old again, instead of college juniors. They have been best friends since that delicate age of 12, a couple since 16, and before this vacation is over, Percy aims to be something even more.

After they find the exit, they walk through the city to the Roman Colosseum. The walls hold uncomfortable memories for Percy – twin giants (one in a tutu), vicious beasts, three injured friends, and a god with a pinecone on a stick – but holding Annabeth's hand, it's as if he can see the structure through her eyes. He actually understands and is fascinated when she explains how the Romans built the arches and the tiered seating. She doesn't have to read the information plaques or listen to the tour guides; this is her very essence made manifest in the curves and angles, in the stone and the mortar.

In his turn, Percy tells Annabeth exactly how the ruined arena looked when Dionysus – Bacchus, whatever – restored it to its original condition. He can hear the delight whirring of Annabeth's brain as she sees the pieces that aren't there anymore; the look on her face makes Percy absolutely sure that she can see it more clearly with her mind's eye than he can with his memories.

Eventually, they find themselves on the outer edge of the second level, looking at the Arch of Constantine just outside the Colosseum's walls. Again, Annabeth rambles about its magnificence, but only until she hears the shutter click of Percy's new camera. Rounding on him, she is just in time to see him lower the lens with a grin. He isn't quite sure what came over him, what made him suddenly feel the need to capture that moment: Annabeth's blonde curls whipping around her shoulders in the fierce wind, her whole body leaning forward onto her toes, gripping the railing and pointing at a section of engraving on the Arch.

"Percy! What are you doing? Taking pictures of the back of my head?"

"To be fair, it's a very beautiful head, front or back."

"Give me that! I'm going to delete it!"

"No, don't! Come on, Annabeth! We haven't taken a single picture in Rome yet and the day's almost over! You should feel honored! The back of your beautiful head is gonna be the first picture in the scrapbook!"

"We're not making a scrapbook!"

"I didn't say _we_!"

"Jackson!"

"Okay! If I promise not to make a scrapbook, will you _please_ pose for just a few pictures with me? _Please_?"

"[insert muttered Greek swear here] Fine. But only a _few_! I'm not photogenic to begin with and my hair looks terrible right now."

"You're gorgeous, now shut up and smile."

He finally manages to get her to stand still and smile, but because he's holding the camera at arm's length, the picture ends up being a close-up of their sunglasses and foreheads. Laughing, they try again, but only get a similar shot of their noses. Finally, a young American woman takes pity on the pair and offers to snap a few pictures for them. Percy thanks her profusely. She captures the grinning couple side-by-side at the railing, the Arch looming behind them. Then, just as Annabeth is pushing half of her hair from her face, Percy turns, takes her jaw in his hands, and kisses her. She tastes of laughter, sunlight, Roman air, and blonde curls.

No matter what she says, that picture will be Percy's everything: screensaver, profile picture, framed wall hanging, refrigerator magnet, one of those pictures you tuck into your mirror. It is the kind of picture one expects to see in a photo booth strip.

That night, in their two beds, one bath set of rooms, Percy leaves Annabeth tucked into the window ledge, alternately watching people pass by in the alley beneath her and pouring over their guidebook. When he returns from the shower, the book is on the floor and her head is held up by the wall of the alcove.

Smiling, Percy drops his clothes into his open suitcase and pads over to her in his bare feet and pajamas. She mumbles unintelligibly as he lifts her up and carries her to her bed. He pulls the covers over her, brushes her hair out on the pillow, kisses her forehead tenderly, and whispers 'Goodnight' in bad Italian.


	2. Days in Between

Over the next few days, they see as much of Rome as their feet can take. Their eyes and minds could feast on the beauty and majesty of Rome forever and never get tired, but their feet are a different story. After just the Roman Forum and the Colosseum, they are already protesting this extensive use.

Percy and Annabeth examine everything in the twin palaces of the Capitoline museum. ("Opened in 1734," Annabeth says. "Oldest public art display in the world!") After they visit the Spanish Steps, they buy souvenirs for themselves and their families on the Via Condotti. ("One of the most famous shopping streets in Rome," Annabeth reminds Percy.) Percy buys her a bouquet of roses in Campo de'Fiori. ("The Field of Flowers," Annabeth translates unnecessarily.) They get a breath-taking view of Rome from the Pont Sant'Angelo stretching over the Tiber River. ("The ten angel statues are the last works of Gian Lorenzo Berini, the famous Italian sculptor," Annabeth explains.)

She is finally quiet as they stroll hand-in-hand through the Villa Borghese Gardens, taking in the sweet air and feeding turtles in the ponds. They weave their way through Piazza Navona, buying spectacular paintings from Italian men and women sitting at easels with their work strewn around them, until they reach the huge Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi. Statues of four river gods sit and lounge on the rocks in the middle of the pool beneath them; the water rushes from niches between each of them into the pool; an Egyptian obelisk towers high over the piazza from the fountain, taller than some of the buildings. ("The Fountain of Four Rivers," Annabeth gushes. "The rivers are the Nile representing Africa, the Danube for Europe, the Ganges for Asia, and the Rio de la Plata for the Americas.") Percy wonders if Tiberinus is upset that he didn't get a spot.


	3. Last Day

Their last day in Rome is spent shopping and exploring the vast buildings of the Vatican museum; the wings devoted to Greek history are particularly enjoyable as Percy and Annabeth recognize each statue at a glance while the other tourists debate whether that's Poseidon or Zeus, Athena or Artemis. Before it gets dark, they move on to the Pantheon, where many more statues of Romanized Greek deities reside. After they thoroughly tour every room, Annabeth stops outside to check out the massive columns at the entrance.

"Percy, Percy, Percy! Take a picture of me with the doors and the columns!"

"Oh, so _now_ you want pictures?"

"Seaweed Brain, these are the _original bronze doors_! Built under Emperor Hadrian from 119 to 128 AD! They're nearly 2,000 years old!"

"Fascinating!"

"Don't make me come over there."

"Why not? I've been waiting all day for a kiss."

"Because I wouldn't be kissing you if I had to move from these doors before I got my picture."

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

"Percy, just take the picture! You've gotten to choose the pictures the whole trip."

"Please?"

"Please."

"Yes, ma'am, Wise Girl."

She poses beautifully in front of the original bronze doors for a few shots, then moves to the columns, where she tries to wrap her arms around them, but would need about three more Annabeths to make it work. The idea of any more Annabeths in the world makes Percy's head hurt; he's pretty sure it would be some kind of paradox and the planet would explode. Annabeth calls him over and he wrangles an English couple into manning the camera for him. He and Annabeth stand together in front of the column, reach their arms around but can't quite touch, and lean around the front, Percy attempting to get that kiss and Annabeth sticking her tongue out at him.

The Trevi Fountain is their last stop of the trip. It is already dark as Percy and Annabeth step out of a gelato place with cones of colorful Italian ice cream and make their way through the crowded streets to the small piazza that is home to the fountain. Pushing through to the base of the fountain, the young couple looks up and marvels at the well-lit statues, the cascading waterfalls, and the shimmering pool filled with coins from all over the world. As Annabeth points out Neptune, right in the middle of the group of statues, Percy pats his jeans pocket to make sure _it _is still there; the uncomfortable lump reassures him of its presence.

Annabeth pulls two pennies from her little shoulder bag and offers one to Percy. The myth is that if you toss a coin into the Trevi Fountain, you will return to Rome. Annabeth doesn't know if it's true, but if it is, she's not missing a chance to make sure she comes back. With their backs to the fountain, she and Percy stand with a penny in one hand and another hand in the other. On the count of three, they flip the coins over their shoulders and into the water. After that, it is just more dazed staring and wide-eyed admiring.

Annabeth is rambling about the history of the Trevi Fountain when she turns to Percy and her words stumble to a halt. He has one knee on the wet stones of the ground.

"Percy, what are you doing?"

"Something I've wanted to do since the day you found me at Camp Jupiter."

"And what, exactly, might that be?"

"Ask you to marry me."

"…what?"

"Annabeth, seeing you again after those seven months made me realize just how much I never want to be apart from you. And everything that happened in Tartarus… gods, you have no idea how hard it's been forcing myself to wait until now to ask you. I've been constantly terrified of losing you at any moment over these last four years. I want to know that I'll never be able to lose you to anything or anyone. But since that's not possible, this is the next best thing."

"So… you're proposing just so you can keep tabs on me?"

"No. Annabeth, I love you. I've loved you for most of my life, and I want it to be for the _rest _of my life. I'm all yours now, but I want to be yours _forever_. And I want you to be mine."

"Oh, Percy… I _am _yours. I always have been."

"Then will you marry me, Annabeth?"

"Yes, yes, yes!"

Grinning in that maddeningly adorable way, Percy pulls a tiny box out of his pocket, removes the diamond-and-turquoise ring, and slides it onto Annabeth's third finger. She smiles with tears in her eyes, pulls Percy up from the wet ground, hugs him tightly, and then kisses him.

"I love you too, Percy. I love you so much."

"And I love _you_, Annabeth."

Their last night in Rome is spent in complete blissful oblivion. As they walk back to their rooms, Annabeth keeps raising their entwined hands just to see her ring sparkling between Percy's fingers. Sleep doesn't claim either of them until they have utterly exhausted themselves talking about wedding plans. On the plane home the next day, Annabeth tucks her head against Percy's shoulder and holds his hands. His fingers play with hers, frequently going to the ring. Annabeth whispers so only he can hear her.

"I always knew I'd end up as Annabeth Jackson."

"You did?"

"Well, not _always._ Obviously, I thought I hated you when we first met."

"Oh, I remember."

"But ever since our first kiss, I think I've known. It just became a stronger, more sure feeling each time something happened to us. Our one-month anniversary in Paris, you disappearing, finding you again, our first trip to Rome-"

"Don't think about that, sweetheart."

"-Tartarus, the Doors of Death. All of that horrible stuff got us to right here, right now."

"I don't know about you, but I could have done without all the near-death experiences."

"Yeah. I'm just glad we've escaped enough of those to get here."

"Me, too."

"You do realize we're going to Greece for our honeymoon, right? I actually want to _see_ it, not just dash through after closing big ominous Doors that lead straight into Tartarus, you know?"

Percy just laughs, and Annabeth joins him.


End file.
